Runelords 21.1 - Guilty Conscience
Luna stared passively out the window, watching the pouring rain idly. She perched at the head of the small inn room’s bed, as there were no chairs; her twisted posture had a stiffness to it that would seem strange to a close observer, certainly not comfortable, and she was rigid and unblinking as she stared. Her hair was crinkled and wet from her recent exposure to the weather, and her soaked clothes were hung up nearby after having been exchanged for dry ones; the men with spells for drying off had wandered away and left the others standing aimlessly in the streets. Foxglove, also now in dry clothes, towelled off his own hair gingerly and sat down across from her, his posture prim and precise. He looked at Luna’s melancholy curiously, and after a few minutes of silence punctuated only by the rain, he inquired, “Luna, my dear, what’s ailing you?” When she replied eventually, it was with a sigh, “...Nothing. It’s nothing. Just...it’s just me.” She didn’t turn to look as she spoke. “...Well, I wouldn’t call today’s events enjoyable in any manner,” he replied, “but, nothing that should cause such malaise. Please, tell me so I can help?” Another protracted silence filled the room. Her delayed reply was hushed and spoken towards the window, “...It’s...awkward, to say out loud…” Foxglove folded his hands and watched her patiently, intently, waiting to be told. Eventually, she sighed and muttered, “...I just...spent years, at home, where I’m the only one who’s, who’s not alive. People...they spread rumours about me. Blamed me, a lot, for missing pets. Said I ate them. It wasn’t true, wasn’t ever true, but, it hurt, because, I wasn’t like that.” She paused for a few beats, the rain drumming heavily against the window. “...Then today, with the dogs...I wasn’t even really thinking, I just…” She exhaled, “I just attacked them. Killed them. Didn’t even hesitate. And then, after that, they were all just...there. And I thought...didn’t really think, but...they were there, and we didn’t have any other food…” Leaning forwards onto the window sill, she buried her chin in her arms, but kept speaking through her sleeves, “They were dogs. They were pets. And I thought about eating them. So, I guess people weren’t wrong, after all.” Foxglove blinked, his expression obviously disagreeing with her sentiment, but before he could say anything, she lifted her head back up, expression still passive and flat, “This is the worst thing, I think. I can’t cry. I know in my head that I should cry, would be crying, but, there’s no tears, no tightness. Nothing.” She looked at the rain, melancholic, “Nothing makes me feel less human. Nothing else quite underlines the fact that I’m just...thoughts, stuck in a puppet. A corpse. A pet-eating corpse.” She sighed again, and continued to stare. “Those are hardly the same things at all!” Foxglove objected. “We were defending our lives against attack hounds, not murdering someone’s peace-minding pet. It’s not as though we were intending that result. And in this case, yes, the animals died and weren’t going to be put to any use, or missed; why shouldn’t they be used? You’re correct; it would be a waste otherwise. That was a perfectly reasoned thought.” He shrugged slightly, “What difference is there between a dog and a chicken, anyways?” "...I don't know..." she said with a tired voice before adding, “...I worried about that, before...” “Hmmn?” he prompted her to speak up. “At Sandpoint," she explained, "With the goblins. I'd never...fought anything before. But soon, it was like, what did it matter? What’s the difference between killing animals and goblins? Goblins aren’t smart, and they were hurting people. No reason to feel bad. Then, what’s the difference between goblins and murderers? Shouldn’t feel bad about that either. How long until I'm wondering about the difference between murderers and petty criminals, and then them and anyone else? So, I worried that eventually there’ll be nothing that makes any living thing different, and I won't feel bad about killing anything.” Considering this thoughtfully for a moment, Foxglove replied, “You’re over-simplifying. There are obviously differences there, but you’re upset and not considering them. You know full well the lines and limits, I'm sure.” He shook his head slightly, “I still see nothing for you to be so concerned about; you’ve done nothing wrong legally, and most people would be glad to have such creatures gone. I was under the impression that this was the entire point of adventurers: they kill the things that threaten others.” “Murderers murdering murderers…” she mumbled. He carried on, “I cannot imagine that that ogre and his beasts were not posing a serious risk to travelers. As for the other point, your musings regarding the dogs were merely a pragmatic, economical solution to an ever-present problem. That’s not a bad thing; it was intelligent.” “Don’t tell me it’s fine,” she said bitterly. “Don’t tell me it’s fine, because I don’t want to think it’s fine. It’s not.” Shaking his head slightly, he agreed, “Alright. I won’t. But, regardless, neither of these things are wrong, for an adventurer.” He cocked his head slightly, “Perhaps...if you’re feeling this way, you’d rather be done with this affair?” This question seemed to catch her off-guard. “I…” she trailed off, thinking. When she replied, it was in a measured tone, “...I don’t think I can quit. Not something like this. Not until whoever’s hurting all of these people is stopped: the lamias, and whoever is summoning them.” With a single nod of his head, he said placidly, “If that is what you want." She considered that for another silent moment before sighing, slumping forwards again, "...What do you want?” “Whatever will make you happy,” he replied immediately. He shifted his stance, moving to lean subtly towards her. “I’m no adventurer; I’m only here for you. As long as you want to follow this path, I will gladly go with you and help however I can. If it’s for you, I will gladly deal with any unsavoury or violent dilemma, and I will never judge you for doing what needs to be done. You’re capable, and willful, and I know you’ll do what you think is best in any situation, and you will likely be right. The amount of thought you’re giving to a pack of wild dogs kept by a degenerate, blood-thirsty thug says to me that you aren’t in any way lacking in empathy towards anyone, especially those who actually deserve it.” He quirked his head again, tone softening slightly, “But, since you asked, I would like, when you’re ready, to retire from this with you. There is business to be done at home, and responsibilities left unattended.” He smiled genuinely, “You gave me back my life, when I thought it was gone forever, so I would share it with you. It’s not without comforts, and a woman such as you deserves no less.” “Heh,” she said quietly, a small smile flashing quickly across the corner of her mouth, “You and your stupid flattery.” He smiled wider, “I doubt I could stop, even if you wished it.” She shook her head slowly, sighing again, “...That, wasn't good. It wasn't right. And I don’t want to be someone who does things like that.” Finally, she looked away from the window towards him, “If I just...respond with deadly force to anything that seems threatening, then eventually I will be no better than…” she dropped her gaze and voice, “...than the zombie that everyone’s afraid I am.” She looked back up, “So, don’t let me think that acting like that is ok, ok? Don’t tell me it’s ok.” Foxglove inclined his head, “If that’s what you want, that’s what I’ll do.” “...Ok.” With that, she sighed and fully turned away from the window, curling forwards and hugging her knees. The man watched her silently for a minute before asking, “...Will you?” “Huh?” she looked up, expression questioning. “Will you come back with me, to Medinipur? When this is done.” Luna leaned back into her knees, looking thoughtful. She considered the prospect silently. “...I...I don’t know,” she said. “I mean...I’ve never lived anywhere else. Never worked anywhere else. I, I’ve never thought about it before.” “...Will you consider it?” he asked hopefully. After a pause, she said, “...Yes. I’ll think about it.” He smiled, “Thank you.” He folded his hands again and sat straight, looking thoughtful albeit somewhat aimless. She sighed and shuffled over slightly before leaning over to resting on his shoulder, still looking distant. This seemed to catch him off-guard, though she didn’t notice. Foxglove fiddled with his hands slightly before making to move his arm. “May I?” he inquired politely. Turning her gaze upwards with a look of confusion, she nodded, “Sure?” He wrapped his arms around her and rested his face in the top of her damp hair, breathing it in. “After what we've been doing, I don’t see why you’d ask...” she commented, and his face twitched with displeasure at the remark. This also missed her notice, but she did add, “Are you ok? You’ve...been kind of acting strange? You snapped at Khyrralien earlier…” “He was bothering you,” he replied, a cold note in his voice. “It wasn’t his place to pry in matters like that, there was no question as to what the issue was, and you shouldn’t have to suffer him.” She frowned, “...Well...don’t aggravate him? Please? I mean...he’s...I don’t know. I don’t think he actually means any harm, even if it seems like he might sometimes. But I don’t know. I’m not the best judge of character.” She leaned into him further, “Just...don't provoke him like that? I know you didn’t mean to, but, I don't want the two of you fighting…” she trailed off, unsure of her sentiment. “Trust me,” he said gravely, “that is certainly something I am doing my best to prevent.” He tightened his hold on her, “I just couldn’t stand by as he embarrassed you.” She shook her head slightly, her expression suggesting that she thought him silly and overreacting, “Don’t worry about things like that. I can handle myself.” “Oh, no doubt,” he said, breathing in the smell of her hair again, “You’re the most capable woman I’ve ever met. Resourceful and strong and intelligent. Caring and skilled and refined.” He closed his eyes, whispering into her hair as he held her, “So beautiful, my lovely Luna.” Luna raised an eyebrow at this somewhat strange declaration, but once more shook her head slightly, putting her concerns aside. It had been a tiring day, and she was sure his curious behaviour was just in her head; the two sat quietly, listening to the rain and waiting for the unspecified “later” to come, when they were to check on Ilsa and the three Black Arrows they had rescued. ---------------- Foxglove's eyes fluttered slightly and his gaze rapidly flashed around, taking in his surroundings. He was sitting on the bed in the inn room in Turtleback Ferry, holding a book, and Luna was pressed beside him, reading her own. Aldern was very good at taking in his surroundings quickly, a skill developed from years of coming to suddenly from a blackout. Never so much as recently had it been a cause for alarm though, and he held himself rigidly as his mind flew over what the last thing he remembered was. They...had been in the woods, by a ramshackle farmhouse. There had been ogres, and he had decided to look in a broken window...but that was all. What had happened? Why were they here now? What had he done? He looked over to Luna, who seemed completely unconcerned with him. He rubbed his eyes, trying to calm down. Luna glanced towards him before turning to look, "Is something wrong?" He looked at her, so obviously unaware that anything was wrong. As he opened his mouth to ask what had happened, to tell her he had blacked out and that he was sorry for everything, he stopped. He remembered the letter he had apparently written himself when he last lost time, and the words died in his throat. He coughed, and instead shook his head, "Nothing. Nothing at all." She raised an eyebrow and turned back to her book, "You really are acting strange today. Let me know if there is something wrong, ok?" "Of course," he replied, turning back to his book, still fretting but taking care not to let it show. He muttered, "I'm sorry...", and kept silent. Category:Rise of the Runelords